So Casually Cruel

I’m full of colors

Red, yellow, and blue

Constantly mixing,

so casually cruel

Paint me in film

And watch me go round

Catch all of the clips

Before they go down

With each passing reel

You’ll find something new

Through all of the colors

Some purple, green,

and more blue

From my head to my toes

I’m decorated with scars;

one on my head,

two on my chest,

not far

from the three on my stomach,

and one on my ankle

and the ones that line my arms

that I would shield from the public

Above all of those scars

I’ve got ink running wild

A ray on the left,

a mic on the right

Honey drips down my chest

from the comb on my throat

and when it's winter

I don't want to shield them with a coat

They’ve become a part of my being,

my very heart and soul

to stop me from being

myself's only enemy

So if a needle is what it takes,

I’ll choose that remedy

There are three simple colors

that come with being me:

Pink, White, and Blue:

but those you can't see

You can only see

when I take off my shirt

or when I speak with my chest

about what represents me the best

The Blue represents me

in a way, I couldn't see

when I thought Pink

was who I was meant to be

Sometimes it's White

I gravitate towards,

but like the veins on my skin

I glow a proud cerulean

They became my shades

when I was merely seventeen

Nearly seven years later

I’ve burst at the seams

And a simple symbol graces

a spot on my arm

That I used to bring harm,

but now just adds charm

You’re probably thinking

“How can I relate?”

to these words, I’ve spewed on a blank page?

I’m only twenty-three

Not much to see

I've learned a few tricks

That I can share with some folks

So jot down some notes

Whether neon or pastel

All colors are bright

Even the darkest of blues

Can light up a night sky

And while I lay awake at night

Under the moon

I keep mixing those colors

So casually cruel.